A meeting of two strangers....
by Elendil2
Summary: This is just a weird idea that struck me in the middle of the night, what if Middle Earth became connected with our earth and we fought a war? Features Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli most, with the Fellowship in general playing a part
1. A declaration

Disclaimer: I think I have to have one of these, anyway. None of the characters will be mine, i don't think, none in this chapter anyway. All belong to the estate of J.R.R Tolkein  
  
The guns fired, the noise more deafening than anything Legolas had ever heard upon Middle Earth. His arrows useless, he threw himself on the floor with the rest of his kindred, many whimpering in terror at the attack unlike anything they'd ever seen before. A few meters away, Legolas could hear Elrond muttering a prayer that he would live to see his wife again, many elves were doing the same. Legolas send up his own prayer that he would live to wander the forest of Mirkwood once more, that he would visit the sea again, to walk upon it's shores and dream of the day he would finally sail the blue waters. He noticed dimly through his confusion that the air had grow hot, and tat he could smell blood and death all around him- then the fire swept forwards and Legolas remembered no more.  
  
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"Aragorn! Aragorn! Listen to me!"  
Legolas snapped back to attention upon hearing the voice of Gimli, shouting at Aragorn...he jerked wildly before remembering that, somehow, he had gotten back to Middle Earth alive, unlike many elves who met their deaths upon the dark field. He had allowed himself to let his mind wander back to that time...he cursed himself inside his head for falling back into the pit of despair when he was clearly needed here. Gimli the dwarf was shouting, red-faced, at Aragorn, who was simply sitting there taking all the abuse. Aragorn flicked a glance over at the Elf, Gimli followed his gaze and saw his friend pale and sweating. He sighed and some of the blood from his flushed face faded.  
"Aragorn, I don't want to fight this war any more than you do. I don't want to walk through your kingdom and see widows and orphans lining the streets, their fathers, husbands, brothers, loved ones all lying dead and unmarked on some battlefield. But you know why we have to fight this war, don't you?"  
Aragorn looked at him curiously, then shook his head to invite the dwarf to continue, a slightly confused look in his eyes. Legolas himself looked upon the dwarf with surprise, his race were not normally given to long philosophical thinkings about why or why not to do something.   
Gimli wandered over to the window, and pulled the heavy drape away, opening the window as he did so. Through it, Aragorn could hear the sounds of children playing outside, his people chattering and laughing, going about their daily lives. Gimli fixed him with a hard stare.  
"They are why, Aragorn. Do not forget your people. The Elves have laid down their lives for the cause, they saw the danger and sought to protect their right to remain on Middle Earth as long as the wanderlust can be resisted. We must do the same"  
Aragorn sighed and bowed his head sadly. Legolas felt his heart ache to see his friend so sad, and softly spoke up  
"My friend, this is not meant to make you feel that we have betrayed you, nor that we are forcing your hand where it does not wish to go. Yet I hope that you will pay our Dwarven friend's counsel heed, for he speaks the truth that you are unable to see. There is no other way." Legolas frowned, then moved over to Aragorn and kneeled in front of him. "Aragorn, listen to me. I could easily leave this world now, retreat to the Havens where I'll be safe. But I won't give up. And if I won't, you won't. You have to fight this"  
  
Aragorn sighed again, filled with the sadness of a hard life.   
"You are right my friend, though I would prefer much more that you were not. I would not have dared to think even in my worst nightmares that such a cruel, evil race could exist and be so like myself. Who could have known that destroying the One Ring would have led to the veil between Middle Earth and Outer Earth to collapse? Now we face the greed of those mortals who, far advanced beyond ourselves, are desperate to take our secrets from us. If I had known that Man had such a deadly cousin waiting to pounce and steal all we hold dear, I might have thought twice about letting Sauron take the Ring, or at least about simply throwing it away. Maybe Boromir had the right idea" Aragorn slumped, worn down with a great weight upon his shoulders. Gimli and Legolas exchanged despairing glances, and Gimli shoved the Elf out of the way to stand before Aragorn  
  
"Nay my friend, we did what we knew we had to do, and we cannot be feeling guilty because of what it has unknowingly led to." Gimli took a breath and started once more. "The men may be related to your race, but never have brethren been more different. But the war must be held with most haste"  
Aragorn looked at him, and frowning he nodded. He flicked his wrist towards the guards situated at the end of the throne room, who marched forward. He murmured to them in a tongue that neither Gimli nor Legolas could understand. The guards nodded once to show that they understood, then they marched briskly from the throne room.   
After they had gone, Aragorn sat with his head in his hands while Legolas and Gimli could only watch in silence. Eventually, Aragorn lifted his head and looked at them, with a look in his eyes that betrayed what he thought of himself at that moment.  
"I....."Aragorn began, faltering as his voice cracked "I have ordered an assault on the veil of the worlds".   
Gimli's eyes lit up in a show of triumph, while Legolas cast his eyes first to the ground and then to the sky, muttering almost inaudibly in an Elven tongue. His eyes then moved to Aragorn and then Gimli- he noticed the look of self-loathing in Aragorn's eyes, and the look of triumph in Gimli's, and wondered to himself which was worse.  
Aragorn stood, shook himself off and fixed an iron gaze first on Legolas, then on Gimli, on which it lingered.  
"We ride at dawn" 


	2. The Company Rides at Dawn

Aragorn cast his eyes to the sky above, still with the haunted look that had occupied them throughout the journey. Knowing that this was the right thing to do, that this was what he had to do, didn't make it any easier. That it was the lesser of two evils made it no less evil in itself, and Aragorn was fully aware of this. Gimli had tried in his blunt Dwarvish way to cheer the King up, but it had worked little. Aragorn's spirits had only been slightly raised when Legolas had drawn him apart and spoken to him gently about having to chose the lesser of two evils, much like Legolas himself had been forced to chose destroying the Ring above the good of his people.   
The company drew up, Aragorn led them, with a vanguard of the cream of Elven and Dwarvish warriors, all clad in the colours of Gondor. Behind them followed a large army made up of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth and more besides. Some Elves had not yet left for the Grey Havens, and they had been gathered under the standard of Haldir, Guardian of the Golden Wood before Galadriel and Celeborn left. The Wood-Elf pledged willingly the service of him and his followers to protect Middle Earth at all costs, that when the elves had all departed and long been forgotten, one tale might speak about their last stand against this mysterious foe. The Dwarvish armies had been stirred into helping by the persuasive words of Gimli; the men had all gladly sworn to serve the King and lay down their lives to save the future. Upon hearing of the plight, Merry and Pippin, the Hobbits of the Shire, had offered to lead a Hobbit army to serve Aragorn; fighting to keep a straight face, Aragorn had thanked them graciously but insisted that Hobbits far from home would not be happy, and that he could not bear to see such a sweet race suffer. Looking over the force, he was glad of this- no one should be forced to suffer this, let alone the Halflings.   
Oft had Aragorn wished that Gandalf had not passed from Middle Earth to the Havens when the Ring had been destroyed. Gandalf had insisted that his time was over, the Fourth Age was not his time- yet Aragorn missed his wisdom and his friendship. Running his hands through his hair, Aragorn contemplated that he would be much surer of his decision had Gandalf been there to show approval. Or his Elf-Father, Lord Elrond. All he had left was Arwen, for whom he did not let a day go past without mourning for the immortality she left behind for him.   
Shaking his head, Aragorn dispersed the thoughts that would drag him into melancholy and focussed on what he had to do.   
  
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Marcus shivered and pulled his blankets around him yet further. In the dark of the night his eyes could still see shapes moving around him- human, yes, human shapes, not that it meant anything in these days of woe. He could hear the low noises that formed the background noise he was gradually getting used to. In his days as a businessman in downtown London he has never imagined a worse sound than constant traffic noise, but the ceaseless sounds of human suffering he heard now had proved him wrong. One of the shapes moved closer to him, muttering under it's breath as it approached. When it got near, Marcus raised his head and shouting loudly at the shape, which squealed and fled slowly, yet not before he had caught sight of what it was. Indeed, it was human, or had been until the Attacks which had doomed most of mankind. It had been a woman, a bright person who probably had had a good life for herself before the end of everything. Now she looked inhuman, a sight from beyond the grave- limp blond hair framed a face dominated by burns and sores from poisoning and a desperate struggle to survive. Blind pupils stared out desperately at nothing, at a vision that only she could see and escape to. Her hands were knurled, her back bend double and she dragged her leg behind her in a grotesque parody of walking. Whispering a song to herself she left him alone, some of the other shapes leaving with her in what he supposed was a social group. He shook his head in pity for them.  
Shifting position, Marcus coughed violently, tasting the bitter blood in his mouth and on his dry, cracked lips. His joints screamed at being forced to move, his head swap with the motion long after he was forced to stop by the rebellion of his flesh. He settled down in his position for the night, thinking before he fell under how pretty the colours swimming before his eyes were- he has almost forgotten beauty, yet strangely he recognised it when it came before him. Curled around a small bundle of food his raspy breathing settled into a regular pattern as he gave himself up to the sweet oblivion of sleep. Almost silently, the woman crept up near him, listening intently to his breaths as they went in and out. A small smile crept over her worn face as she heard the note of them change slightly, then as they faded. The man gave himself not only to the oblivion of sleep but to the oblivion of death; the only difference a small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, and a smoothing of the suffering lines around his face. The woman roughly tore the food package from under him and ran.  
  
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OK, that bit had nothing to do with Middle Earth or LotR yet, but it lays the background for the rest of the story, yeah? It's midnight now, so I'm not going to even think about starting the next chapter..... 


	3. The council

Chapter III  
  
The army pulled short at a large gate, etched with arcane letters and runes than even the wisest could not translate. Aragorn glanced at the men who until a few moments ago had been complaining about their weariness; now they were all struck dumb as the true purpose of their quest was coming closer to the test. Alongside Aragorn he saw Gimli looking slightly less composed than usual, his grip on his axe tighter than usual. The elf Legolas was not noticeably afraid, but there was a set to his face that Aragorn had only seen at the worst times in their adventures. It was not dissimilar to the expression he had worn upon entering the Mines of Moria in their first journey together. He felt sorry for the elf, illogical he knew as there was no way he should ever feel that for the immortal; yet the evil things that such a beautiful creature had to live through made his heart bleed. Aragorn gave the command to pitch camp here while he decided what was to be their next plan of action. He walked a few steps north to a plateau above the veil of the worlds, and for how long he stood there he could not have told you; he was startled from his thoughts by Legolas, his face a mask of concern, touching his elbow with a soft, questioning "Aragorn?"  
"Legolas? What is it that you want?"  
The tone of his voice must have been brisker than he intended, for the elf's eyes clouded over and he took a hurried step backwards.  
"I apologise, My Lord, but the High Council awaits you, I have been sent to find you. If you desire more time to linger here then I pray you tell me so that I may deliver the message; but recall that this may be time wanted which we do not have."  
Aragorn sighed, angered at himself for acting this way when it was not just his future at risk, or even that of people he knew and loved. Although he had always shouldered responsibility and was no stranger to the darker paths to which life can lead, this burden was weighing heavy upon him, and he would need the support of his comrades if he were to have any chance of survival.   
Legolas lead him down the rocky outcrop down to a large tend, in the middle of the main body of the camp. Aragorn passed the soldiers who were, in the general way of men on the campaign, trying to forget what they were about to do in a way of lighthearted talk; although the pallor on the faces of most betrayed that even this did not let them forget what an unusual and probably hopeless mission this would be.  
Legolas pulled back the flap of the tent and stood aside as Aragorn entered, not to show subservience but to show respect, which Aragorn appreciated at the current moment with his mode of thought and self-doubt that was creeping in. In the tent stood a large table, around it were seated some of his best commanders, along with representatives from all the major nations. In a sort of parody of his first adventure, he saw that Gimli was there, along with another dwarf whom he did not recognise, as the representative of the dwarves. Legolas and Elrond were there for the elves- Lord Celeborn had occupied Legolas' chair on the council until he had been killed in the previous battle. Legolas had taken the seat grudgingly, but as the veil seemed to be weak at Mirkwood, it had made sense for either him or his father Thranduil to take the chair- and Thranduil seemed less that eager to put himself in this danger. Lord Eomer had come up from his kingdom, as had Faramir, anxious to be involved in this and still, perhaps, secretly wishing to outdo what his brother had done. Various other lords were gathered around; Aragon knew their names but reflected to himself that he was not fighting for them this time. Every other battle he has partaken in had been for something, he had always seen the wider picture and fought for every man alongside him. Now he realised that he was not doing that- he was fighting for himself, for his family and his friends, fighting for their right to live and his to live with them, and were the need to sacrifice everyone in this army for that, then, well, after a lot of heartache, he would.   
Looking around, Aragorn saw that all eyes were upon him, and he was stuck for something to say. Faramir saw this and spoke up first, receiving a grateful look in return.  
"My Lords" Faramir began "It is no secret to any of us why we are here. In that respect, it is no different to a 'usual' battle- the objectives are the same. However, what is not the same is the conduct of the war, and our enemies. What do we know about them? Why -and how- are they attacking us? If anyone knows this I beg them to impart it to us, so that we may have a chance against them."  
The men around the table all nodded, and Elrond raised his hand to speak. When all eyes were upon him, he began to speak in a soft tone to them all.  
"We do not know how the Others get through to Middle Earth. Neither do we know why they want to, or why the see it as necessary to harm us when they come. We have never seen their world. We have never even seen them- they come in shells of metal to kill us, huge ones that come and send fire towards us in an ugly death scene that has claimed too many lives. They themselves wear a skin most unusual, I do not know what it could be for, but if I were to hazard a guess I would say that it is to protect them against something I their own world- perhaps it is very cold there, or indeed too hot for normal life to survive. Or perhaps they cannot survive in Middle Earth without it, though then why they would wish to come here is beyond my thinking."  
"My Lord Elrond? May I be forgiven for interruption?" asked Legolas. At a rather confused nod from Elrond, he continued. "I have seen what the Others look like underneath their shells, although the image haunts my dreams now. They look just like men from Middle Earth, in shape and form at least, with features that would be indistinguishable from ours if taken alone. But they are grotesquely deformed, some terrible accident must have marred their features this way. They have open sores all over their bodies, they have colouring that would not be out of place on a dead man, and their eyes..." he shuddered "their eyes shine with latent madness, there is no life or soul in them other than a desperate will to survive. It is like looking into a black abyss that will never end, and to feel yourself falling down for all eternity. I doubt" he paused again, looking around the tend for emphasis "I doubt that they are aware of what they are even doing. Is it possible....is it possible that a Dark Lord like Sauron has taken control of their world, and made them into beings even lower than orcs?"  
A ripple of surprise went around the room, each man turning to his neighbour and surprisedly discussing what Legolas had said. None of them had considered this before- that the world had undergone a huge trauma that made them seek elsewhere, or that they might be under the yoke of an evil master. Aragorn held up his hand for silence, which after a few moments more he grudgingly received.   
"My Lords, what we have just heard is a new idea to us, and it is to be expected that you will have many ideas that spring from this. However, I warn you only of this...do not leap to a conclusion that it 'must' be a certain way, and plan around that. We have no way of finding out what is truly the case, we cannot get through to the other side."  
"Surely there is some way?!" cried Faramir, his fiery temper rased by the hopelessness with which both the elf and the man had spoken.   
"Not that we know. Not that is not too dangerous to anyone who tries it- we just do not know what will happen. Or even what their world is like...can we in any way hope to survive if we got through?" Aragorn replied.  
"My Lords, with you permission, I would like to try and go through" said Faramir, his jaw set firmly and a glint in his eye that said he would argue this until he was allowed to go. Aragorn sighed.  
"This is what I knew someone would do. I cannot stop you, if you wish to go then the use you may be outweighs my own personal feelings about it. Would that I could join you, but I am needed here, it is for me that all these men leave their homes and come to a foreign place to, most likely, meet their death."  
"Do not worry, my King. I shall accompany the Lord Faramir on his quest, and we shall both come back, or neither of us." Legolas stood up to say this, his fair elven face making him look like an angel going to war. Aragorn felt his heart break when he heard those words; of all the people he had ever loved, including Arwen, he felt that Legolas was the most dear to him. Perhaps it was a sense of comradeship alone, but he sensed that it was more than that, in the dark hours of the night when the mind often thinks about what you do not wish yourself to know. He was unable to say anything to concur with the idea, but just nodded numbly as Elrond and Gimli volunteered their services as well, but then held up his hand. In a composed voice quite unlike the one he felt- which was to scream and beg them not to go- he gave his royal permission for them to go and blessed the trip. Then he dismissed the council and fled the tent, just making it to the solitude of the forest before the grief washed over him, and he lay down and gave way to sorrow. 


	4. The journey

The morning dawned clear and bright, the air alight with the sounds of the world waking up to face another day. The men were emerging from their tents, blearily rubbing their eyes and searching for cold water to try and wake themselves up. Some were clearly nursing hangovers, drink of course being one way of forgetting the trouble that you were soon to be in. Legolas emerged from his tent looking bright and rested, although his eyes looked worried and a frown creased his brow. He stepped gracefully over the slumbering form of a man outside the tent, letting the man out off the pain that would ensnare him upon waking up for as long as possible. Legolas stopped short, scanning the camp but seemed to fail to locate what he was looking for. He cocked his head to the side and closed his eyes, listening for...something. He stood this way for a good few minutes, the people around him began to get worried at the perfectly still elf and one brave man was considering shaking him awake, when Legolas' eyes suddenly flicked open and he lightly began to run towards the forest. It took him only a few moments to get there, and he stopped dead when another shape lay at his feet. Bending down, his face full of concern, he put his hand on the figure's shoulder and spoke quietly  
"Aragorn? Aragorn, are you alright? Aragorn?" he shook the man's shoulder. To his surprise, Aragorn clutched onto his arm and turned his face up to the elf's, his eyes intense and flowing with tears that betrayed the turmoil that went on within his soul. Legolas felt his heart burn to see his friend in that state, it tore at his soul to realise he had no idea what was wrong with him, and no way of helping.   
"Legolas! You are still alive! But you will go....you and the others....you will all die...I will be alone" and he buried his head like a child in Legolas' shoulder, taking in the comfort of the elf's embrace. They sat this way for many minutes of silence, Legolas feeling helpless and Aragorn soaking up what he knew might be his last time alone with his best friend, ruing that it would never have a chance to become more. Eventually Aragorn was composed enough to raise his head, meeting the deeply worried eyes of the elf, his head surrounded by the beautiful blond hair of a Sindar elf. He tried to stand, falling halfway there and relying on the strong hands of the elf to catch him. Aragorn finally stood to his full height and shook his head to clear it of the mournful thoughts and sleep that still engulfed him. He gave a small, weak smile at the concerned elf, and they headed back to the camp, arm-in-arm in.  
Back at the camp, Aragorn immediately noticed that all preparations for sending Faramir, Gimli, Elrond and Legolas to the Other World had been made. A wizard cloaked all in brown- Aragorn supposed that this must be one of the surviving Istari, Radagast- was standing by with a intensely worried look on his face. A few elves in long cloaks also stood by, Aragorn guessed they must be the remnants of the magic-wielding elves that were all too few, although of course all elves possessed some measure of power in that way any longer. He supposed that the only people he would have really trusted in this situation would have been Gandalf, Lady Galadriel or Lord Celeborn. However, their time had passed, and he was farsighted enough to know that unless he allowed this mission to be tried, the time would soon have passed for all of them.   
Faramir, Gimli and Elrond had all been set up with suitable armour to try and protect them; yet in the mind's eye of all, they knew how useless these would be against the monsters that the Others could command. Faramir shone like the near-King he was, in bronze armour hardened by the dwarves to be as tough as iron, at his side was a large broadsword and a shield with the Gondorian crest blazoned proudly. Gimli himself wore leather armour studded with iron sections, his trusty helmet on his head and his battle-axe sharpened by his side. Elrond rose majestically above both of them, his many elf years serving not to make him look old, but noble beyond belief and almost god-like, invincible. He wore plate armour, and hidden underneath this, a chain mail shirt of mithril that had been charmed for him by his daughter Arwen. At this belt was an ancient sword struck in the days even before the dark lord Sauron, which Elrond could still remember. Legolas sprang lightly over to join them, bereft of armour still as he was after spending the morning searching for, and comforting, Aragorn. He was given plate armour much like Elrond's, but decorated in a Mirkwood style with inlaid gold. A small smile as he recognised it as a gift from his father- the father who never seemed to take much interest in what he did but always seemed to know what was going on. Earlier on he has been given by Elrond a mithril shirt himself, but this he kept quiet as Elrond was unable to supply the other two with similar protection and honour, much thought they deserved it. Legolas had no sword like Faramir and Elrond, he had always shunned an ungraceful weapon that, for all his elven skills, became a clumsy instrument when put in his hand, more of a danger to himself than to any one else. On his back therefore was a fine quiver of arrows, the one presented to him by the Lady of the Golden Wood so many years before. In his hand was the bow from the same meeting, still a fine weapon and no more battle worn than it had been on the day he had been given it. At his belt, two long knives given to him by Lord Haldir, his friend and mentor in the past few years in the skills of hand-to-hand combat, staying as a guest in the dark halls of the Mirkwood palace. Legolas took his place alongside the other three, their faces all set in the same determined manner. Radagast looked around at Aragorn, who realised suddenly that this must be the time they were going, and that he was meant to brief them and say a few words of farewell. His mind blanked for the first time that he could remember; as a child even he had always known something to say, yet now, with all eyes upon him his mind threw up nothing. Playing for time, he strode over to the four and gathered them into a small group, just the five of them, and unbidden words began to come from him with no knowledge of where they came from.  
"Go, go with the blessings and hopes of us all. Do not risk your lives in fruitless gains, there is time enough to die once you have come back to tell us what we need to know. Once it becomes clear that you will find no more out, or you have discovered something important, comeback immediately. If you fail to discover anything, come back all the same- we would sooner have you back bereft of information than never have you back. Now go, and hold in your hearts the love that we feel for you all"   
Aragorn then pulled away from the group, and saw the whole army watching him, thousands of eyes on him, thousands of ears waiting for even the smallest sound that he would make.   
"My friends, these brave souls go off without futures in their hands, and I fear not what they will do! They are heroes the like of which we may never see again; yet the like of which may be the thing that saves us all. They go with honour and our respect. Show them."  
At this, a huge roar set up from the army, a war cry mingled with a cry of victory, each man praying that if only he cheered loud and long, it would somehow make the difference. Aragorn was startled suddenly by a small shape running past him. A dwarf....woman?! She ran straight up to Gimli and hugged him with all her might, sobbing into his shoulder as he held her and whispered something to her in their own tongue. Aragorn shook is head- he hadn't even known that there were any women here, let alone Gimli's wife, but he could not really stop them with their last farewell. Seeing this, another shape darted forward from the crowd, this one recognised to Aragorn's eye. The Lady Eowyn, wife of Faramir, flung herself at her husband in much the same way as the dwarf had, although her eyes were dry. Only a few steps behind her was the Lady Arwen, Aragorn's own wife, whom he was certain he had left at home with their children...she took her father Elrond into her arms and he held her like a child. Legolas looked somewhat out of place alone, and Aragorn was about to make his way over to talk with his friend when Haldir stepped forward from the crowd, making his way over to Legolas in not a desperate lover's manner, but in that of a friend who cannot bear to let the other go. They spoke in Elvish, and Aragorn could see tears at the eyes of Haldir, before the two elves embraced in a brotherly fashion, yet held for just as long as any other. Aragorn tried to pass this off that they were just close- after all, they had both lived for thousands of years, and there are only so many elves that you can meet in that time. But something told him that they shared not a normal friendship alone, that there was something more, that he could suspect but not confront. Warrior-bond relationships, he knew, had been common among the elves in the past years before him, and that even now they were carried out and known about with no great shame among the elves, seen as something normal and not to be hidden. He knew all this, and repeated it to himself over and over in his head. Yet he felt angry, betrayed, and hurt. Anger coursed through his veins as he felt he could take no more of this knowledge, and he stood and shouted to prepare to send them off.  
Embraces were broken, promises made and last kisses exchanged as the four made their way over to the portal. Aragorn meant to give Legolas a cold stare, but felt his heart constrict as he looked into the elf's eyes for what might be the last time. He leaned towards him, with a quick embrace and a whispered "be careful, my friend. Gods bless". Legolas looked at him and nodded, his eyes sad but not as much as Aragorn knew his must be, his heart breaking as he could feel it was. Aragorn stepped back, and with a last look Legolas focussed his attention on the portal. Radagast called upon the arcane and unused powers to drive a hole through the portal, the first time such a tear had been made from the side of Middle Earth. A blinding flash of light, and then a shriek from Radagast, as hew realised the spell was going wrong, that there was no way for him to control the powers. Long tendrils of light snaked out and grasped the four warriors, who in the flashes looked worried, but this was nothing compared to the horror on the faces of the beholders. As the spell appeared to be ebbing away, suddenly three more tendrils crept loose, lashing out and ensnaring the first flesh it met. One grasped a rank-and-file soldier, another the elf Haldir-another flash of anger- and then another latched onto Aragorn, he could feel it drain all struggle and awareness from him as he fell into it's power and watched his home of Middle Earth fade into the distance.  
  
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I am unsure if people like this story or not. If you do, please review or something so I know to continue it. 


	5. A rough landing

Aragorn awoke with a start, aware that a long time must have passed since he has last been conscious, yet unable to recall what had happened at that time. He listened to the sounds around him- or rather, the lack of any sounds that he recognised. Slowly he raised his head, the movement jarring his sense and causing him to wince in pain, although he managed to stifle the gasp that wished to escape from his throat. Once he had managed to life his head far enough he stopped in relief, closing his eyes as he waited for the pain to ebb away from him. This took longer than he had hoped, and he knew that any further movement on his part would start the whole cycle up again, to his dismay. He moved his eyes around carefully, taking care not to move his head, just his eyes, even this made his head burn. Lying a few feet away from him was the solider, stirring but clutching his head in pain, moaning softly to himself, punctuated by sharp gasps of pain when a dagger of pain shot through his body, tensing up and screwing up his eyes as if that would stop it hurting. A small way from him lay Faramir, still unconscious by the look of it. A small trickle of blood fell from his temple along his face, but his features were free of the lines of suffering on the soldier's face, and indeed those which much surely be mirrored on Aragorn's own face, he realised.  
A crack from behind punctuated his thoughts, and he was frightened as to what it might be...there was no chance of him being able to defend himself in this state. A strong pair of hands gripped Aragorn from behind, and unbidden a small yelp left his mouth, summoned by the lighting-white pain that coursed through him at the movement, or the fear of what was going to happen to him if this was a foe that had encountered them first.  
Twisting around despite the pain, the relief almost made up for the pain as he saw the familiar elfin features of Elrond, his face a mask of concern for the man he had brought up and given his daughter to in marriage. Aragorn clutched at his arm, fighting the nausea and determined not to give in. Over his shoulder, Haldir attended the unknown soldier, with Legolas tending to the unconscious Faramir. It was with almost resentment that Aragorn saw this, but in his mind he passed off that Faramir was the most in danger, and so should be tended by Elrond, the most proficient healer of the three elves.   
Slowly Elrond and Haldir steered their human patients to a small cave that they had obviously scouted out. The elves did not seem to be affected at all the trans-dimensional journey that they had just made; the humans, sorry to say, could not say the same. Legolas carried Faramir in, draped across his arms like a child, with as much effort used on Legolas' part as if the man weighed less than a small child. When the three humans were settled the elves sat down along side them, huddled into a small group and speaking elvish. Aragorn strained his ears, but the dull throbbing black pain at the back of his head stopped him from concentrating. A noise made them all look up, to see Gimli clumping into the cave, carrying as much wood as he could carry, not much to keep them warm for very long, but a start. It was only then that Aragorn noticed how cold and dark the place was, not just inside the cave but outside as well. It was as though he sun was somehow blocked out from shining, but that would be impossible- it would require something huge to block out the rays, but Aragorn was too tired to think about it anymore. He gave out an involuntary shudder of cold, Legolas looked up in concern at the man who, though Aragorn did not know it, was already turning blue from the cold. Legolas walked over to him, pulling off his tunic and draping it over Aragorn, who took it with a small nod of thanks. Legolas put his hand on the man's forehead with concern, then beckoned Elrond over   
'He is weakening, Lord, I do not know what it is, but you have many more years than I and may know more what to do'  
Elrond shook his head sadly, and muttered in a low voice to Legolas  
' I have never seen anything like this before- indeed how could I have done? None of the men have taken the journey between the worlds well, but Aragorn seems most affected- strange, as he is closer to being an elf than the other two. I do not know why elves and dwarves may make the journey unharmed, or seemingly, but we must worry about him. There is little I can do, we will have to pray that someone here can be of aid'  
Legolas looked in worry at his friend, who was shivering with his eyes closed, in the half-awake half-asleep sleep of the diseased, his heart aching at not knowing what to do to help. He took one of Aragorn's hands in his own, trying to warm it, to pass on some of his immortal strength to his friend. In his sleep, Aragorn suddenly had the sense of the sun coming out on him briefly, the wind rustled through his ears, all betrayed to his face by his brow lightening and a small smile coming to his lips. Elrond and Legolas looked slightly bewildered at this, but took it as a good sign, and left him to rest and let sleep do what it could for him. For all of them.   
Elrond worked quickly on Faramir and the soldier, who they discovered was named Seyae, a slightly elvish name that had come from a mother bewitched by the tales of the elves in their wooden halls and forest homes. He seemed to be in a fine condition, especially compared to Aragorn, although he was not in the least hungry. He was fairly quiet, answering questions quietly, shortly and to the point; however, they put this down to the company he was in- three legendary and hauntingly beautiful elves, the King Elessar, a slightly annoyed dwarf and the Steward of Gondor, anyone who 'knew their place' would be intimidated. Seyae fell asleep soon afterwards, his rough snores reverberating around the cave until Gimli kicked him almost lightly in the small of the back, to turn him over. Faramir was also asleep, he has not really woken up from when they had arrived, but his sleep was that of the normal respite. Gimli soon joined him in the land of dreams, although his was a fevered and broken sleep.  
Their work done, the elves sat at the mouth of the cave in a small group. Each ate a small wafer of lembas, much less than they had rationed for the day, but they knew that with two extra people, and three of the people ill, the food would last for a much shorter period than they had planned for. Speaking in low voices they condemned the mission, each expressing their feelings of doom for the task and that they would never see their homes on Middle Earth again. Haldir was the first to fall asleep, his head dropping onto Legolas' shoulder the first notion he has of his comrade's weariness- he has indeed been caught up in his own thoughts not to notice. Gently, with a small smile on his face Legolas carried the elf to a place in the cave by the remnants of the fire, and lay down beside him himself. Soon they both walked in the dream fields, watching them Elrond could only hope that they place filled their hearts with light, love and hope- for they would not find many in the strange place which they had come. The two were huddled together, compensating for Legolas' tunic having been leant to Aragorn. Elrond signed, pulled his tunic close around him and slept himself, and he dreamed of his wife and his home.  
  
  
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i'm sorry if this chapter is not as good as any of the others, firstly i felt i needed to throw just something together to update, plus there isn't really any action to happen yet. Hopefully the next will be better, if you liked the thing please review so I know where i'm going with this. 


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